


Bloodloss

by BlissfulCacophony



Category: Homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlissfulCacophony/pseuds/BlissfulCacophony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the execution of the Signless, Karkat finds himself feeling more alone and upset than ever, and his best friend only serves to make the situation much much worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodloss

Karkat walked slowly up the hill, though he knew he should be hurrying. It was just too hard when he knew that behind him his ancestor was dead, his beaten and torn body cremated, his blood staining the stone of the flogging jut, the irons that entrapped his wrists still glowing from being heated to better torture their prisoner. It made him angry, in a form far more real than that cranky, quick-tempered, irritable attitude he always kept up, and he found he was constantly wiping away the bitter, transparent red tears that flowed from his eyes. It's not like he cared if anyone saw him crying, he had every right to, but if anyone saw their color he would surely share his signless brother's fate and he felt the least he could do was avoid that, for Kankri's sake at least. Not that it would make any difference to anyone else if he didn't. His blood, though it brought him life, brought hate in the eyes of so many others. Sure those who knew his secret said they didn't care, and Terezi even said she liked it in her own strange blind way, but there was always that underlying concern that he wasn't natural, he was sick, cancer in the normal healthy lives of everyone else.   
Frustrated, he stopped, forcing himself not to look back. If he did he'd only upset himself further and already he was crying and fighting to keep his tightly balled fists from shaking, which for him was showing immense restraint. This was no time to flip out, something his hot blood had made him particularly susceptible to. A shaky deep breath calmed him enough so he could remind himself that friends were waiting for him back at The Dolorosa's abbey, and if not there, then in The Summoner's secret base deep in the woods. They might shove him into some dark hiding place again, but at least he'd be alive and safe in a place among friends where he could breathe easy for awhile. For a moment it crossed his mind that the Subjugglators would be searching for Kankri's followers and some, like Meulin, a faithful Disciple even when she was nearly executed, could be captured, killed, or hurt, but he pushed that thought out of his mind and focused on his own safety. One step at a time. That's the only way he was going to get through this.   
“Hey, best friend.”   
The familiar, rough, quiet caress of a voice from the darkness made Karkat jump. He hastily rubbed the tears from his eyes and turned around slowly, seeing, with relief, the tall, lanky, messy-haired silhouette of his moirail.   
“Gamzee?” He asked, surprised to see the homeless, sopor-addicted mess he had adopted as one of his own. “What the fuck are you doing here?”   
“I came to see you, Karbro.” Came Gamzee's casual reply from the shadows. “I was all wandering around when I saw you all wandering around too and decided I might as well come and join a motherfucker.”   
Karkat rolled his eyes. He loved Gamzee in the most pale way possible, but he was in no mood to deal with him right now. “And need I even ask why you were randomly wandering around?”   
“Oh, that's nothing much. I was just out here taking care of some motherfucking business.”   
“And what kind of business could you possibly have?”  
“Nothing that concerns you.”   
Karkat let out an audible sigh. “So you're just not going to tell me then?”   
“Not if you keep pressing for it.”  
That was enough. Spreading his arms out dramatically, Karkat turned around, ready to get back onto his course. “You know what? I don't even want to fucking know. If you're going to act mysterious then go ahead, see if I care. I just want to go back to wherever I can, crawl into the next recuperacoon and never crawl out again.”   
“Is something troubling you, bro?”   
“It's nothing you need to worry about.” Karkat looked back again. “What are you doing hiding in the shadows like that anyway? It's kind of creeping me out.”   
“I doubt you want to find out.”   
Karkat raised an eyebrow. What was up with him today? It wasn't like him to act so vague and cryptic, not to mention he was standing far away, while usually he kept an arm slung over Karkat's shoulder whenever they conversed. “Okay then. Whatever you want to do I guess.” Karkat turned to leave again. “Now I really have to get out of here. Why don't you go back to your hive and drink some of your Faygo or eat one of those thinkpan melting pies of yours or something?”   
“HOW DARE YOU MENTION THAT SWILL!”  
Karkat froze, tensing, an unexpected chill coming over him like a cold finger running up his spine. “Swill?” In confusion he turned back again, this time slowly, gingerly, and was surprised that Gamzee's posture had changed. He had hunched over, his arms hanging low, tensely gripping his clubs, his stance threatening. Was he. . .angry?  
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Inquired Karkat, concerned this time and scared for reasons he wasn't sure of. “What about your 'wicked elixir' or whatever you call it? Don't tell me you ran out.”  
Gamzee chuckled, lightly, in the back of his throat and started slowly advancing forward. “Oh I didn't run out. I DIDN'T MOTHERFUCKING NEED TO.”   
A nervous tingling erupted in Karkat's stomach. Something had shifted in Gamzee's voice. It had gained a malicious undertone and a dangerous fluctuation that told Karkat he was done being friendly. As a pang of terror formed itself in Karkat's chest he felt something at the back of his mind, some deeply ingrained lowblood instinct, telling him he needed to book it out of there, but he disregarded it, pushed it away in denial. Since when had he ever had to be afraid of Gamzee? “Okay.” he continued, pretending to keep his cool as Gamzee approached. “Then why are you acting so. . .”   
Karkat trailed off when Gamzee stepped into the light. His painted face wore a sadistic grin and was crossed with three long diagonal scars, each bleeding deep purple. Subjugglator purple.   
Karkat's jaw dropped, speechless, his dark eyes wide. He could barely process what he was seeing and found himself dropping to his knees. “This whole time. . .” he started, his voice a dry whisper. He clenched his teeth, angry that out of all the things that could have pushed him over the edge, it had to be this. “THIS WHOLE TIME YOU WERE A FUCKING SUBBJUGGLATOR?!”  
Gamzee didn't seem affected by Karkat's anger, in fact his grin suggested he was enjoying it. “And I was too high to even know it. I'VE DONE SOME CHANGING SINCE THEN THOUGH. It wasn't easy at first, BUT IT WAS MOTHERFUCKING LIFE ALTERING. My ancestor found me, sitting on the street like a piece of lowblood trash, and told me all about my blood. I DIDN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND HIM, MY THINKPAN WAS SO FOGGY, but he sobered me up alright. HE BEAT THE CLOUDS RIGHT OUT OF ME. Everything became crystal clear and I realized who I really was. THE NEXT DAY, I TOLD HIM ALL ABOUT THAT FILTHY SIGNLESS. No one even suspected it was me after he was captured. MY ANCESTOR WAS SO MOTHERFUCKIN PLEASED, He even let me come to the execution.”  
Karkat scrambled to his feet. “Wait a second.” He said, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. “YOU DID WHAT?!” He felt his heart beginning an irregular pounding in his chest as his blood came to a boil. Gamzee. GAMZEE! Gamzee, of all people, was responsible for Kankri's death. His best friend. . .wasn't the same person anymore. He was a highblood. A purple blooded Subjugglator! He had been all this time and now. . .and now Karkat didn't even know what to think. All he could do was stand there and be furious because it helped hide his fear.  
Gamzee looked down on Karkat with a look of mild disgust, to which Karkat only bared his pointed teeth. The action did nothing to stop Gamzee from seizing the front of Karkat's shirt so he could pull him closer, lifting him up so his feet barely grazed the ground. Karkat wrapped his hands around Gamzee's lean but well muscled forarm and attempted to pull away, but it was useless.   
Gamzee only looked into his eyes with that cold, smug smile of his. “WHY DO YOU LOOK SO UNHAPPY, MOTHERFUCKER? I did what you wanted didn't I? YOU ALWAYS SAID THAT I WAS POISONING MYSELF. You always said that stuff was rotting my think pan. YOU WANTED ME TO STOP. Well now I have.” He shook Karkat from where he gripped his shirt. “WHY DO YOU LOOK SO MAD?”   
Karkat gripped Gamzee's hand, trying to pry his fingers off his shirt. “Because you're a completely different fucking person when you're not on it! I know I always said getting off it would help you, but I didn't know this would happen. In fact, I still don't understand how this happened. Just a few minutes ago, you were acting completely normal!”   
Gamzee laughed. “Oh that was just a test bro. I WANTED TO SEE IF YOU KNEW ABOUT MY TRANSFORMATION. It's obvious now that you probably didn't even notice I was gone.”   
Karkat rolled his eyes. “That's only because you wander off all the time anyway! And all you said before was an act to test me?! Gog, it's like I don't even know you anymore, and to tell you the truth, this new you scares the shit out of me!” Gamzee's eyes narrowed, and before Karkat even know what was happening, he was flat on his back, disoriented, pain flooding his skull as he processed late the force of Gamzee's arm throwing him down. He forced his eyes open through his new headache and found himself staring up the tall lanky body to the condescending face of his used-to-be-friend.  
“Scares you does it?” murmured Gamzee, his rough whisper caressing each word with sadistic satisfaction. He laughed softly and pulled from his belt a long, slender culling knife, letting it gleam in the dim light. “IS IT BECAUSE I HAVE A REASON TO HURT YOU?” He stomped his foot down on Karkat's ribs and leaned his weight onto it. “You wanna know why I was out here by myself?”   
Karkat clenched his teeth and coughed, Pain gathering at the pressure point and sharpening every time he tried to take in breath. Mere minutes had passed since he had learned of Gamzee's blood color and already he had been hit in the back of the head and pinned, the culling knife gleaming coldly above him, threatening to draw his own blood from it's vital secrecy and sentence him to his death. At this point he couldn't care less about why Gamzee had been lurking around. “Sure!” He growled like a troll with nothing to lose, pulling at Gamzee's foot with whatever energy he could force himself to exert. “Why the fuck not? Go ahead. Tell me why you're out here with a culling knife and clubs. Were you expecting someone you disgusting excuse of a clown?”  
Gamzee dug him foot harder into Karkat's chest, forcing out a deep, burning cough that raked the lowblood's ribcage and caused his grip around Gamzee's ankle to slack. “IT WAS ON BUSINESS OF MY ANCESTOR. Gotta go look for any lingering supporters of that mutant rebel, AND CULL THEM ON SITE. Just another step in snuffing out the rebellion. GUESS IT'S SUITING SINCE I RATTED THEM OUT. I knew all their secrets from hanging around them so much, BUT THEY'VE ALL GOTTEN THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” He lifted his foot suddenly, much to Karkat's relief, only to straddle him, seating himself on Karkat's pelvis and leaning over, propping himself on one arm planted next to Karkat's head and using the other to hold the culling knife to his throat. “all except one. MY MOTHERFUCKING FAVORITE.”   
Karkat gulped, his eyes widening, feeling the weight of Gamzee's cool, sinuous body, the heavy sound of his breathing, the residual scent of grape Faygo on his breath, the edge of the knife he was pressing into his throat. “Y-your favorite?” Karkat stuttered, his voice stalling up with fear. “Oh gog. . .” He realized with sudden terror that the knife had made it's way to his cheek and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to turn away. “No.” the blade sliced it's way into his skin regardless and he clenched his teeth as it stung, releasing a steady flow of hot candy red. Karkat attempted to flip his black hair forward, hoping that it would cake into the wound, disguising it, making it clot quickly in a dark scab.   
It seemed plausible, but Karkat knew it was a stupid and fragile excuse for hope.  
Gamzee had already seen it, and as soon as he had, he dropped the knife on the ground and scrambled to his feet, his breathing heavy, his face a mask of rage. “I should have known. I SHOULD HAVE MOTHERFUCKING KNOWN. It's so obvious I don't know why I didn't see it. YOU LOOK JUST LIKE HIM!”  
“Gamzee, bro,” pleaded Karkat desperately, terrified, as Gamzee reached for his clubs. “J-just c-calm down-” His voice cut off and choked when he took the full brunt of Gamzee's anger in the form of a vicious kick to the ribs and two stiff, heavy clubs to his already hurting torso. He let out a pained cry, but it dissolved into another cough as he tried to suck back in lost air. He cringed, letting his body go limp, feeling helpless and scared and pathetic. “Fine.” He coughed. “You caught me.” His gaze shifted to the highblood standing over him. “What do you plan to do with me now?”   
For a moment Gamzee's smile broadened and his eyes flashed as if he had just thought of a million sick possibilities, but that smile turned to a face far more stern and cold. “That's not for me to decide. THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD WILL DETERMINE THAT once you're kneeling before his motherfucking throne. JUST DON'T PUT UP A FIGHT LIKE YOUR ANCESTOR, and” he crouched down over Karkat's body again, wrapping his cold fingers around Karkat's neck. “I'm sure he'll be merciful and make your death a quick one.”   
Karkat glared at Gamzee, gripping the highblood's hands in an attempt to tug them off. “I highly fucking doubt that. I can fight however much I like. It wont make any difference as long as my blood is this color.”   
Gamzee chuckled, amused at his statement. “I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY TO FIGHT ME. It would be entertaining.” Karkat felt as one of Gamzee's hands removed itself from his throat and instead began feeling it's way to his hip, finding the handle to his sickles and slowly pulling them out. Gamzee smiled at him mockingly and tossed them just out of his reach, letting them land with a disjointed clang. “ESPEICALLY WITHOUT YOUR PITIFUL WEAPONS TO HELP YOU.”   
“As if I'd give you that kind of satisfaction!” Karkat spat. He already knew he was no match for Gamzee. He'd be oblivious not to notice after being kept on the ground like this for so long. He needed to slip away, run as fast as he could and disappear, curl up somewhere small where Gamzee couldn't pursue him. Forget picking up his sickles. Forget fighting head on. Right now the goal was survival.  
“Oh, so you mean you wont fight at all?” Asked Gamzee, standing, making himself once again an imposing presence from foot to horn tip. “WELL THEN GET ON YOUR FEET, MOTHERFUCKER. You can let me lead you there, LIKE AN OBEDIANT RUST, unless you think you even have a chance of getting away.”  
Karkat obeyed, his head and chest aching as he did so, his heart pounding as he tried to still his breath. This was it. This was his opening. He bowed his head, like a docile rust-blooded slave and drew in a deep breath. “Last time I checked, I wasn't a rust.” With that statement, he turned tail and ran, pulsing adrenaline fueling his fevered sprint.   
Gamzee stood there for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly started in pursuit, following Karkat into the darkness of the pink-leafed trees, weaving between their large grey-blue trunks. For awhile he could see Karkat clearly, but the lowblood was being evasive, weaving through the foliage in confusing patterns, like a frightened rabbit. Gamzee scanned for Karkat's grey cloak, continuing in it's direction whenever he saw it, guiding him in a maze of zigzags and loops that made the pursuit all the more irritating. Finally the cloak stopped, and Gamzee smiled. He had worn Karkat out. Quickly, he ran to it, taking the hem, only to find it hanging from a tree, it's owner no where to be found. Frustrated, he growled, tearing the cloak from it's perch and throwing it to the ground.   
“WHERE ARE YOU, MOTHERFUCKER?” He bellowed, more angry now than before at being deceived.   
Karkat heard this cry from far away and was pleased to realize that he had put distance between himself and Gamzee. The pain in his chest flared as the adrenaline rush died down and he stumbled to a stop, collapsing against the trunk of a tree, shading himself in a patch of thick green foliage, trying to catch his breath. He knew he shouldn't be stopping, Gamzee was still looking for him, but he couldn't just keep going, even if that meant just a short rest. He was hurting too much, not just from the wounds Gamzee had inflicted on his body, but from the mental and emotional shock he was still dealing with. A sob forced it's way out, and he leaned his head back against the tree's sturdy trunk, letting scarlet rivers flow down his cheeks, stinging the cut that had revealed his secret. This was too much. This was just too fucking much. In one day he had lost his ancestor and his best friend in the most painful ways imaginable, and now here he sat, terrified for his life, wanting nothing more than to curl up and forget everything. Forget all his pain and sleep off the exhaustion. Fuck. Why didn't he just do that now? It's not like Gamzee could find him here.  
“Found you.”   
Karkat nearly had a heart attack, the soft voice scared him so badly. His eyes widened and he jumped to his feet, suddenly on full alert, scanning the trees for Gamzee. For a brief moment, he wondered if the voice had been his imagination, but then Gamzee grabbed him from behind, twisting his arms harshly behind his back. Karkat let out a scream, both from pain and surprise. Gamzee abruptly stopped it by clamping a hand over his mouth.  
“THOUGHT YOU COULD ESCAPE ME, DID YOU?”   
Karkat cringed, more tears flowing from the sides of his amber eyes as he squeezed them shut. Behind him he felt Gamzee's hard sinuous body, followed by the tickle of coarse hair on the back of his neck and chapped lips near his ear.  
“Don't you realize you just made things worse for yourself?” Spat Gamzee, his voice a deadly whisper.  
Karkat responded only by jerking and struggling desperately against Gamzee's tight hold. He couldn't do this again, but Gamzee wasn't giving. Finally, he worked his upper teeth between Gamzee's fingers and bit down as hard as he could, the pointed tips of both sets penetrating skin. Gamzee cried out, but Karkat didn't let up. He continued to dig deeper into Gamzee's pale grey skin, letting salty, metallic, dark purple blood flow into his mouth and down his chin until Gamzee's grip slacked and he tore his hand away. Karkat took the opportunity to run again, but this time he wasn't as lucky as the last. Gamzee was ready and wrapped his arms around Karkat, pinning his arms to his torso, leaving him kicking and struggling worse than before.  
“STILL HAVE SOME KICK, HUH?” Shouted Gamzee, throwing Karkat down on his hands and knees. He took his clubs out from where they hung on his belt, baring his teeth. “I guess I'll just have to beat it out of you.”   
Karkat felt the first blow hard and heavy from the side of his head, making his vision black out for a second, sending the world spinning in a flurry of pain and disorientation, his jaw burned as more of his own blood steamed down his chin. The first was followed by another to his back before he even had time to recover and soon it turned into a violent unyielding barrage. Karkat quickly fell from his hands to his elbows and curled up into a ball under the attack, his face to the ground, his arms protecting his head and horns.   
“Stop, please!” He shouted. “Gog, we're moirails! Don't you remember Gamzee?! Aren't we moirails anymore?!”  
Gamzee stopped suddenly, curling his lip away from his fangs, his breathing labored, his nostrils flaring. “THE TROLL YOU KNEW AS YOUR MOILRAIL IS DEAD!” he insisted. “Stop pretending we're the same motherfucking person.”   
“Gogdammit, how could you have changed so much?!”  
Gamzee didn't answer, and for a moment Karkat thought he had finally got him thinking, until he heard the cold ring of metal and felt a sharp pain as Gamzee stabbed the culling knife into his shoulder. He let out a cry and fell on his stomach, hissing in pain.  
“I'M A MOTHERFUCKING SUBBJUGGLATOR. Don't you forget that.” Said Gamzee coldly, grabbing Karkat and forcing him to sit up. “IT WAS MOTHERFUCKING STUPID OF YOU TO FIGHT ME AND RUN.” he pulled Karkat's arms behind his back, and Karkat hissed in agony as the motion put pressure on his new deep wound. Gamzee simply ignored him and began fixing a pair of shackles to his wrists. “The Grand Highblood will show you no mercy for your rebellion.”   
“What makes you think I'm going to the Grand Highblood?” Choked out Karkat.   
Gamzee finished securing Karkat's wrists and stood. “WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU ARENT?” He took Karkat by the waist and rump, swinging him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing.  
Karkat flinched as his body landed like dead weight on Gamzee's shoulder, bent at his hips, his head and chest upside down against Gamzee's back, his legs hanging down Gamzee's front, his rear facing skyward. He wanted to struggle, but was in too much pain to even attempt. “Stop, Gamzee.” he pleaded. “You wouldn't fucking dare! I know that, if you do, people will come for me.”   
Gamzee started walking regardless. “You think that's a threat? YOU'LL BE LONG DEAD BEFORE THEY EVEN GET TO YOU. I'll paint on the walls with your mutant blood, and it will be no different than the blood of any other dead rust.”   
Karkat didn't reply. He was getting dizzy as his blood rushed to his head. There was no strength, no fight in him left, and his body went limp, resigned to whatever fate might come to him. 

***** 

“TIME TO WAKE UP, MOTHERFUCKER.”   
Karkat cracked his eyes open in response to the harsh voice, not sure what was going on, surprised he had woken up at all. Maybe he was just dreaming? Everything seemed foggy enough. Of course, it was a hope that disappeared the moment Gamzee pulled him down from his shoulders and he landed knees first on the stone ground. With his hands shackled behind his back as they were, he couldn't catch himself as his weak body collapsed face first on the rough ground, where he stayed, having no desire at all to get up.   
“On your feet,” muttered Gamzee, his eyes cold.   
Karkat made no attempt to move and closed his eyes, feeling heavy, dizzy, a million times more sore and tired than he had before he'd passed out.   
“I SAID ON YOUR FEET!” demanded Gamzee fiercely, kicking Karkat in the side.  
Karkat took it. Saying nothing. Biting his tongue as his pain flared again. What difference did it make if he stood or not? Would he receive any less abuse? Would he die any less painfully?   
Finally Gamzee took his shoulders in frustration, pulled him to his feet, and pushed him forward. “Walk,” he ordered, taking out his culling knife. “OR SUFFER BEFORE YOU DIE. You're ultimate fate will be no different whatever you do.”   
Karkat stumbled forward to steady himself and glared at the ground. For a moment he considered resisting, but when he felt the culling knife prod him in the back, he decided he had better walk. He was already in enough pain as it was. Might as well prolong whatever form of nastiness was waiting for him ahead. It wasn't as if there was any way he was going to avoid it now.   
The stone walkway seemed to go on forever. There was no end to it in sight, just a continuous strip of stone as tedious and painful as it was never-ending. For the most part, Karkat kept his pounding, spinning head low, trying to focus on his footing and not throwing up, but occasionally he dared looked up out of curiosity, noticing that on either side of him rose large, black stone slabs, painted with an eerily beautiful array of colors. It looked like paint, but Karkat knew better. He stared at the blood splatters, ranging from maroon to purple, slaves to traitors, dry and faded to fresh and bright. There was no bright red due to Kankri's cremation, but soon there would be. Karkat had no doubt they'd use his corpse to contribute that.   
Karkat felt a sharp pain in the back as Gamzee prodded him. He realized he'd stopped to stare, absorbed in the cruel and chilling murals, simultaneously hideous and beautiful, that made the tedium of the walkway easy to forget. Gamzee prodded him again and he begrudgingly continued, but only at the slowest pace Gamzee would allow. It was all his faint body could handle.   
After what seemed an eternity of silence and unchanging stone under his feet, Karkat was surprised to hear noise breaking the monotony. He lifted his head slowly as they neared a large, rambunctious crowd, packed together in a half circle around a high set, menacing throne, the Grand Highblood's throne. Gamzee caught the crowd's attention and Karkat's stomach did a flip as they parted, leaving a path directly to the Grand Highblood and his doom. He found his feet becoming all the heavier as he was engulfed and surrounded by a host of trolls, mostly adult, all highbloods, their hateful eyes ranging from bright blue to deep indigo. He shifted uncomfortably under their judgmental gazes, all focused on his bright cherry wounds. He nervously pulled at the shackles keeping his hands behind his back, and realized quickly that they had scraped up his wrists, making them swollen and sore. Could this day get any worse?  
“YOU BROUGHT ME A PRISONER?!” Boomed a deep, hostile voice.   
Apparently it could.  
Karkat looked up and saw his doom in the form of a lanky figure with tall, curling horns, and an unruly mane of thick black hair. In the darkness, he was a mere shadow, a silhouette in front of the glowing braziers on either side of his throne, but his skull-like face makeup stood clear and behind him the eery shadows of his followers danced on the blood splattered walls, skewed grotesquely by the movement of the flames. Karkat noticed that the freshest blood on these walls was bright red and a fresh wave of grief came over him as he realized that Kankri's blood had been used after all. He supposed it was only to be expected that the Grand Highblood would save such an exotic color for adorning his own platform. Such a twisted perspective came naturally in subjugglators.   
Karkat's thoughts on the subject were quickly put to an end when Gamzee pushed him on to his knees, sending his torso forward again, his head hanging almost to the ground, his matted hair falling in his face. Before him was a set of stone steps, the only thing standing between him and the imposing Grand Highblood. His heart raced, he became suddenly aware of how much cherry blood was running freely from his wounds, starkly visible as it ran down his pale skin, and nausea set in. This time though, his nerves wouldn't let him hold it back, and he vomited at the Grand Highblood's feet, coughing as he rid himself of the throat stinging bile which mingled with the taste of Gamzee's and his own blood still on his lips.   
He wasn't about to look up to see for himself the disgusted looks boring into his back.  
“You were supposed to kill all supporters of that signless motherfucker on sight,” growled the Grand Highblood, his voice a rough, seething whisper.   
“Oh, no motherfucking disrespect, your highness,” started Gamzee calmly, getting on one knee. “But this one is no normal supporter.”   
“PROVE IT TO ME.”  
Gamzee got to his feet and took a handful of the back of Karkat's shirt, using it to pull him upright. Karkat gasped at the action, the wound in his shoulder screaming like no other as the fabric and dried blood was torn from it. He felt Gamzee's hand seize his chin and force his face up so he was staring directly into the Grand Highblood's cold purple eyes.   
“YOU SEE THIS FACE?” Asked Gamzee roughly. “This is the face of the Signless's descendant, AS YOU CAN SEE FROM THE OBSCENE COLOR HE BLEEDS, but this little motherfucker is more than just that. I ONCE THOUGHT OF THIS LOWBLOOD AS MY MOIRAIL, back when my mind of foggy and I didn't know who I was, SO I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANT TO DEAL WITH HIM, in a more personal way.”   
The Highblood grinned in response, a facial expression that made Karkat feel like he couldn't take in a good enough breath.  
“So you want a more. . .exciting execution for him?” asked the Grand Highblood with a low, raspy whisper.   
Gamzee shoved Karkat back down. “IF IT ISN'T TOO MUCH MOTHERFUCKING TROUBLE.”   
Karkat listened to their mocking laughter as he pulled his head up so he wouldn't land face first in his own vomit. Gamzee started right off saying all the thing he could hold against him, talking about him like he wasn't there, snickering with his ancestor all throughout. “Yeah go ahead and laugh you filthy highblood nooksniffers. See if I fucking care.” he muttered resentfully to the ground.  
“YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY?!” Shouted the Highblood.  
Karkat felt a chill run down his spine as he felt the Grand Highblood's long, cold fingers wrap themselves around his throat. He bared his teeth, using all the energy he could to looked threatening and more thoroughly irked than terrified. His display looked pathetic in comparison to the array of long, sharp fangs the Grand Highblood revealed in his amused smile, but Karkat held his ground. He made the firm decision that was going to go out looking utterly pissed off, or completely apathetic. Weak and scared wasn't going to do him or Kankri any justice. Besides what harm would pissing off the highbloods do? He was going to die either way.   
“Well lowblood scum?” asked the Highblood, leaning in closer.  
Karkat's scowl deepened. “How would a greasy grinning bonebulge like yourself like to know?”  
The Highblood tightened his grip around Karkat's throat. “How would you like me to snap your neck right here and now?”   
“Go ahead.” choked out Karkat. “Save me the displeasure of dealing with your insufferable stench another minute. It's already fogged up my think pan as it is.”   
The Grand Highblood didn't say anything in response, instead he simply stared at Karkat, inspecting him. It made Karkat's heart pound in his chest, but he did everything he could not to show it.   
Finally, the Grand Highblood looked over to Gamzee. “TAKE THIS FEISTY LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER TO THE ALTER. He'll make a good sacrifice to the mirthful messiahs.”  
Alter? Sacrifice? Mirthful Messiahs? Karkat cringed at the very words. Were they serious? He couldn't tell. Or at least he couldn't until the crowd around erupted with sadistic laughter and cheers. This couldn't be good. His eyes darted around the din and confusing around them and he squeezed them shut. His heart was racing, he had to measure his breath. No freakouts. Not now.   
“You can do it, Karkat. You can take deep breaths. You can be cool. You can get a fucking handle on yourself, Karkat.” He whispered to himself, though that didn't stop his body from shaking. He could do this without flipping out. He had to. It's not like he had to keep it up for very long anyway.   
“WHAT? ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKING SCARED?” asked the Grand Highblood mockingly.  
Karkat took in a long breath through his nose and opened his eyes, slowly lifting them to meet the Grand Highblood's, his face emotionless. “Does it looking like I'm motherfucking scared?”   
For a moment the Grand Highblood looked a little disappointed, but that was quickly replaced by a grin dripping as much with sadism as with drool. “Gamzee, get some one to help you drag him up with the procession, and keep it slow. I WANT THIS SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER IN TEARS WHEN WE EXECUTE HIM.”   
Karkat swallowed hard but kept his composure as he felt the Grand Highblood tap on the rounded top of one of his horns and then muss his thick, shaggy hair.  
“It wouldn't be fun if we let him keep his dignity would it?” added the Grand Highblood with an oily grin.   
Karkat glared at him in the most calm and removed way he could manage, but jumped when a sack was shoved over his head and he was dragged by the arms to his feet.  
“My pleasure.” came Gamzee's voice from behind him before he was tugged backwards, turned around and pushed roughly forward, the din and confusion following suit.  
Karkat could only guess what sick, twisted ritual was happening around him, much less which direction he was going, as he was hauled along, blinded and disoriented, to his death. He stumbled along, letting cold arms linked around his do most of the work, his eyes closed, listening to his thumping of his heart in his ears, feeling the pain in his chest and back, the tickle at the base of his stomach, the strain of his lungs. Calm each one, nice and easy, one at a time, distract yourself from the unpleasant things outside. That's what the signless was always telling him. Of course, he never found that advice worth following until now.   
Suddenly his feet slid out from under him, his knees and shins colliding with cold stone, stinging as they scraped on rough stone while his upper body was pulled up by his arms.  
“GET UP.” said Gamzee, slapping Karkat in the back of the head. “We're going up stairs. BE SURE YOU KEEP UP.”   
Karkat didn't even get the chance to respond himself. Instead he was pulled to his feet and pushed forward. The stairs, like everything in subjugglator territory seemed to be, were frustratingly long, and he was dragged up them slowly, tediously, the ascent ever maddening. His legs burned and ached, his pace was slow and faltering, he was on the verge of collapse. The world swum and pitched, the din seemed distant and blurry, his head pulsed and felt light on his shoulders. He didn't even notice when the stairs stopped and he was on flat ground again.  
Of course he did notice when he was pushed down onto his bleeding shins, and his hands were unchained, put in a different set of chains stretched out of either side of him, and the sack over his head was removed, revealing Gamzee in front of him, the purple scars on his face warping with his sadistic smile. The eyes with which he looked down on Karkat with were unfamiliar now. Once, they had been harmless, gentle, the eyes of a best friend, and Karkat hated that those eyes, out of all the pairs to choose from, would have to be the eyes of his killer. Gamzee, of course, didn't seem to care. This changed nothing for him, and even if it did, the Grand Highblood was on a throne set near the alter to make sure he didn't show it.   
Gamzee used his fingers to wipe drying blood from his face, smudging his facepaint in the process, and smeared it down Karkat's cheeks, mixing the cold of royalty with the heat of lowest of the low. Karkat sneered in response, a shiver running down his spine, and he knew that intervention wouldn't be needed.   
“You better brace yourself, motherfucker.” muttered Gamzee, softly, his eyes becoming distant, filled with a hunger for intimate malice. His icy fingers crept slowly, firmly onto Karkat's neck and Karkat tugged at his chains, knowing it would do no use as his heart pounded so hard it hurt.   
“I'M GOING TO MOTHERFUCKING KILL YOU.”   
Gamzee's grip tightened and Karkat knew this was going to be it. He'd break his neck and he would die, quietly, no screams, no dignity. His moirail, his fucking moirail, was going to become his executioner and his corpse would lay beside the Signless's ashes as the highblood decorated their murals with his blood. He felt like he should try and calm himself again, but the fear, the betrayal, it all came down on him at once and it was too much. He bit his lower lip to keep from screaming out. What did it matter if he died anyway? Why was he so scared?!  
He felt it as Gamzee began to turn his head and his breath caught.  
But his head wasn't turned far.   
Karkat looked up slowly as Gamzee removed his hands from his neck and stood, frowning, breathing hard, looking angry and conflicted. Karkat just stared dumbfounded, speechless, unsure what to think or feel or expect. What was happening? Was he. . .changing his mind?   
“WHAT IN THE MOTHERFUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” Bellowed the Grand Highblood.   
Gamzee glanced back at him for a moment and then pulled out his culling knife, holding it at the ready, preparing to swing. Karkat's terror was restored and he squeezed his eyes shut and cringed, preparing for the final blow.   
Only, the final blow never came.   
Karkat felt the chains on either side of him come loose as they were cut individually and he immediately put them down in front of him, using them to support his aching body. He looked up just in time to see Gamzee drop the culling knife and fall to his knees, wrapping his arms around him in an embrace. Karkat tensed underneath them, not sure whether to be confused, relieved, or terrified out of his mind and settling on a little of each.   
“Please, don't be scared.” Came Gamzee's a voice, a soft whisper, broken like he was fighting tears. “I'm sorry Karbro. I'm just so motherfucking sorry.”   
He the got to his feet, leaving Karkat with his mouth open, not sure if he could even blink any more, or think, or breath for that matter. All he could do was watch as Gamzee turned to one of the other highbloods, a sweaty looking blue blood with shoulder length hair, a broken horn, and dark glasses, and pointed his finger at him.  
“YOU.” he barked. “YOU'RE A TRAITOR. WE ALL KNOW IT. GET THIS MUTANT BLOOD OUT OF HERE AND SOMEWHERE SAFE FAST AND I'LL MAKE SURE NO ONE FOLLOWS YOU.”  
The blue-blood looked extremely distressed. “B-but your highness–”  
“go.” commanded Gamzee, his voice deadly. “BEFORE I CHANGE MY MOTHERFUCKING MIND AND HAVE YOU KILLED TOO.”   
Before Karkat knew it he was being swept up bridal style by the sweaty, nervous blue blood, moving quickly and away from the alter. He stole a glance back at where he had almost been killed, the poles he had been chained to, the blood splattered stone, the Grand Highblood stomping furiously up to Gamzee and screaming at him, Gamzee holding his ground, the Grand Highblood taking Gamzee by the horns and throwing him on the ground. Gamzee had just saved him, not only that he was taking punishment for it. For him. Karkat stared for a minute, convincing himself that it was real, that there was some of the friend he knew still left, and then looked away, focusing his efforts on holding back tears. 

*****

“Kk! Karkat!” shouted Sollux into the air from his perch on the back of Terezi's white dragon lusus, scanning the ground as they went by.  
“Karkles!” yelled Terezi in the same attempt, her voice carrying farther than Sollux's, but amounting to just as little.  
Sollux sighed, knowing that neither his scanning nor her sniffing were doing any good. “Where is he?” he asked, starting to get impatient. “It's been hours.”   
“I don't know. I'm getting worried.” answered Terezi. “He's out there somewhere by himself with the subbjugglators prowling around. I don't even want to think of what they'd do to him if they found him.”   
Sollux looked out over the dark landscape. “Well we better hope all those years of hiding his blood color have paid off.”  
Terezi nodded and lifted her nose to the air, inhaling the scent of the wind as it rushed passed them. She didn't expect this to make much difference, but she supposed to was worth a try. . .Her damaged eyes widened when a familiar scent crossed her nose and she quickly steered Pyralspite into banking right, beginning to fly in circles.  
“TZ!” shouted Sollux indignantly. “What are you doing?”  
“Circling the area.” answered Terezi, a grin on her face. “I just caught his scent. He's close.”   
“Are you sure?”   
“It's Karkat's blood. I'd know the smell of it anywhere.”  
Sollux looked over Pyralspite's side to the ground below, and surely enough, a black and grey glad figure was traveling slowly across the grassy terrain.  
“Do you see him?” asked Terezi.   
“If your nose is right, then yes. Let's land.”

*****

Karkat stumbled forward, his vision fading, forcing himself to move on even though each step brought on fresh agony that made him want to throw up, or pass out, or both. Still, it wasn't as if things would be better if he stopped. Last time he'd done that, it had nearly gotten him killed. In fact, it should have gotten him killed, but something had changed in Gamzee's eyes last minute for reasons Karkat didn't dare try to guess. Now he was here, alone, not sure where he was going, but alive while Gamzee took the beating for him. Perhaps he'd feel bad or morally conflicted or something like that, but his consciousness had become too murky for such things. He was only aware of the pain, and the road ahead of him, and the fatigue, and the fact that he was still bleeding freely, cherry syrup staining his clothes, exposed to the world.  
He had thought that he might be carried straight to safety, for a brief moment at least. The blue-blood turned out to be Equius, descendant of Darkleer, who spared the Disciple's life and was banished for it. He was also Nepeta's moirail. He had told Karkat that he couldn't continue to meet with the rebels, that he'd be met with too much opposition there, that he had to go find his ancestor, and to tell Nepeta that he still thought frequently of her. Then he left Karkat alone, trudging silently, the open Alternian land cold and empty.  
Now Karkat could only think of the pain and loneliness around him. He was in the middle of nowhere. There were no rebels here, not even any beasts, just the same grass he had been walking on since Equius left. Above him, he thought he could hear the sound of familiar voices calling his name, the heavy flap of dragon wings come to rescue him, but of course that was absurd.   
Or at least that's how it seemed until the ground shook below him and Pyralspite appeared, as solid and real as ever, several yards in front of him.  
“Karkles!” Shouted Terezi, dismounting and running toward him.  
Sollux followed and said something to Terezi, but when Karkat heard it, it was muffled. Terezi stopped and said something back to him before turning to Karkat again, her face concerned, her body separating into two as Karkat's vision doubled. He felt her arms slip under his, crossing supportively across his back, pulling him close to her cool body. Karkat wrapped his arms around her as well, tears of relief running down his cheeks as he realized that he could stop now because she and Sollux were here, and they were real, and Terezi's arms were around him, holding him up as his vision went black and his body went limp.


End file.
